When you rent an apartment in Paris, do not be surprised if it is deprived of many things that we generally find in rented apartments in the US. I used to not have to buy stove, or fridge (though in Australia, fridge is often not present either). Walking into my first rented apartment in Paris, what I found instead were bare wires (yes, bare wires sticking out of walls to which you have to attach lamps etc the type of work that I generally associate with electricians and not just any average Joe citizen or I imagine Joe the plumber either).
So, it is no wonder that changing apartments in Paris is such a big deal as you have to lug really heavy stuff each time since you own the fridge, the stove and, for many Parisians, their washing machine.
Buying a washing machine was not something I considered when living in LA and San Francisco (same as when I lived in NY). Most of the time I used a laundromat or visit my relatives with a big bag of wahing. But Parisians seem to have a thing about having everything in their miniscule apartments. So, once you have that dream apartment, you have to find yourself a stove (very small one as generally the size of your kitchen is more fit for broom closet), a fridge (also small on which you may have to put your stove…which means everything in your fridge will start to defrost or melt when you use the stove) and the fabled washing machine. Going to stores that sell washing machines, I have never in my life seen such variety of machines in sizes and shape. The smallest washing machine I have seen was here….a tad smaller that the small bar fridge that we find in the US (you know, the one that goes up to about your knees and can be hidden in a cupboard under the bar). Now, I imagine myself washing my underwear 3 at a time and spending the entire day rerunning the machine to finish my washing (I may have to forget about my big towels that I brought from the US). Let’s face it, that miniscule machine that would be perfect for the small Paris apartment is finally a bit too small for me but still a bit too big for being a toy (like Barbie’s washing machine for instance?).
Laundromat is a great alternative if the thought of buying a washing machine that weighs tons and lugging it up to the sixth floor via narrow stairway puts a damper to your enthusiasm of owning your own washing machine. Indeed, Laundromats can be an interesting window to life in the neighborhood. The Laundromat in France tend to be smaller than in the US, the machines tend to take a lot longer to run (though your washing does come out cleaner) and the dryers are just not hot enough (the French have a thing about hanging everything rather than drying themd in a dryer). A window to your neighbourhood I said, because they may also serve as a place for other activities that have nothing to do with washing.
Once, a shifty looking man entered the laundromat followed by a very well dressed woman. Already, making an unlikely pair, they attracted attention. Inside the laundromat, the man started taking handbags out of his big bag (which did not obviously hold his laundry) to show to the woman….turned out to be fake Louis Vuitton bags! The two bargained away in loud voices not taking notice of those who were stuck assisting this transaction.
Another time, a very big butch guy who looked like he could beat up a guy like me without sweating asked me in a loud voice for all to hear if I was gay. A bit stunned, I said that if he had to ask surely then he knew the answer already. Surprisingly a lady who happened to be doing her laundry at the same time started dissing the guy to his face for asking such a personal question. I got out of there like a bat out of hell and went to a café nearby. When I went back to retrieve my washing though, he was still there, drinking probably his tenth can of beer from the looks of it. Turned out that he was not violent at all, despite his look, and seemed just genuinely curious (and does not understand a bit what being gay is all about). Incomprehensibly, despite his scary look I found him then rather exciting (but thought he was too drunk too, to attempt anything exciting with him).
Finally, the guys that I see hanging out in the corner of my street all the time might also be found here, either settling disputes with their girlfriend or maybe doing deals…
Then, of course, there are the odd tourists who come in every now and then (from the hotels nearby). An American guy I ended up having a drink with after we chatted in the laundromat; another was an Australian with whom I discussed Melbourne with more than a pang of feelings that resembled longing. I guess for tourists, laundromats can also be a place to mix with the locals (my advice: choose your laundromats carefully. In le Marais, for instance, I have met good looking men).
So far, I have not yet met the dream man in the laundromat, but I keep hoping. At this stage, anywhere is a good place to look for love.
Hints for tourists:
Laundromats are called Laverie(s) in French. They can be found in most quarters of Paris. At about 3 euros 60 cents a pop, it is a bargain compared to giving your laundry to the hotel.
So, it is no wonder that changing apartments in Paris is such a big deal as you have to lug really heavy stuff each time since you own the fridge, the stove and, for many Parisians, their washing machine.
Buying a washing machine was not something I considered when living in LA and San Francisco (same as when I lived in NY). Most of the time I used a laundromat or visit my relatives with a big bag of wahing. But Parisians seem to have a thing about having everything in their miniscule apartments. So, once you have that dream apartment, you have to find yourself a stove (very small one as generally the size of your kitchen is more fit for broom closet), a fridge (also small on which you may have to put your stove…which means everything in your fridge will start to defrost or melt when you use the stove) and the fabled washing machine. Going to stores that sell washing machines, I have never in my life seen such variety of machines in sizes and shape. The smallest washing machine I have seen was here….a tad smaller that the small bar fridge that we find in the US (you know, the one that goes up to about your knees and can be hidden in a cupboard under the bar). Now, I imagine myself washing my underwear 3 at a time and spending the entire day rerunning the machine to finish my washing (I may have to forget about my big towels that I brought from the US). Let’s face it, that miniscule machine that would be perfect for the small Paris apartment is finally a bit too small for me but still a bit too big for being a toy (like Barbie’s washing machine for instance?).
Laundromat is a great alternative if the thought of buying a washing machine that weighs tons and lugging it up to the sixth floor via narrow stairway puts a damper to your enthusiasm of owning your own washing machine. Indeed, Laundromats can be an interesting window to life in the neighborhood. The Laundromat in France tend to be smaller than in the US, the machines tend to take a lot longer to run (though your washing does come out cleaner) and the dryers are just not hot enough (the French have a thing about hanging everything rather than drying themd in a dryer). A window to your neighbourhood I said, because they may also serve as a place for other activities that have nothing to do with washing.
Once, a shifty looking man entered the laundromat followed by a very well dressed woman. Already, making an unlikely pair, they attracted attention. Inside the laundromat, the man started taking handbags out of his big bag (which did not obviously hold his laundry) to show to the woman….turned out to be fake Louis Vuitton bags! The two bargained away in loud voices not taking notice of those who were stuck assisting this transaction.Another time, a very big butch guy who looked like he could beat up a guy like me without sweating asked me in a loud voice for all to hear if I was gay. A bit stunned, I said that if he had to ask surely then he knew the answer already. Surprisingly a lady who happened to be doing her laundry at the same time started dissing the guy to his face for asking such a personal question. I got out of there like a bat out of hell and went to a café nearby. When I went back to retrieve my washing though, he was still there, drinking probably his tenth can of beer from the looks of it. Turned out that he was not violent at all, despite his look, and seemed just genuinely curious (and does not understand a bit what being gay is all about). Incomprehensibly, despite his scary look I found him then rather exciting (but thought he was too drunk too, to attempt anything exciting with him).
Finally, the guys that I see hanging out in the corner of my street all the time might also be found here, either settling disputes with their girlfriend or maybe doing deals…
Then, of course, there are the odd tourists who come in every now and then (from the hotels nearby). An American guy I ended up having a drink with after we chatted in the laundromat; another was an Australian with whom I discussed Melbourne with more than a pang of feelings that resembled longing. I guess for tourists, laundromats can also be a place to mix with the locals (my advice: choose your laundromats carefully. In le Marais, for instance, I have met good looking men).
So far, I have not yet met the dream man in the laundromat, but I keep hoping. At this stage, anywhere is a good place to look for love.
Hints for tourists:
Laundromats are called Laverie(s) in French. They can be found in most quarters of Paris. At about 3 euros 60 cents a pop, it is a bargain compared to giving your laundry to the hotel.
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